


what makes it special

by dreamofspring



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Yuki's character development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofspring/pseuds/dreamofspring
Summary: Anniversaries didn't use to have much of a meaning for Yuki. He learns it bit by bit, over the years.(Happy anniversary, IDOLiSH7!)





	what makes it special

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning for Yuki's absentee parents in the first part of the fic.**
> 
> Includes references to or spoilers for:  
> \- Story content about Re:vale's backstory (part 3 of the main story, Re:member novel, Momo's 2017 birthday card rabbit chat part 4)  
> \- IDOLiSH7 special 3rd anniversary story

Yuki is still rubbing sleep away from his eyes, yawning as he sorts through the packages at the foot of his bed. The presents are askew, a part of the pile collapsed when he tripped over it right after waking. He can still feel the impact of the fall in his palms; the rustle of glossy present paper makes the silence in his room ring out louder than usual, somehow, making him more careful than usual. Yuki works slowly, scratching at the sellotape with his fingernail and peeling away whole layers of packaging. A small, satisfied smile appears on his face when the wrapping comes off without tears or tape marks. The paper is dark green, with a subtle floral pattern visible under the light. Nothing about it says “a child’s birthday present”, it doesn’t even look like something that could be bought in an ordinary stationery store, but Yuki likes it; the rich color makes him think of Christmas trees. He can almost see his mother leaning over the samples in some stylish, artsy shop, brushing her long hair away with a well practiced gesture that makes all the workers stop and stare.

The first few presents are books about music and nature. Yuki traces the covers with his fingers and flips through a few pages, looking for pictures, before stacking them on his bedside. Deciding to leave the large presents for later - the biggest, longest one is almost too tempting, but the fear of damaging it in his drowsiness wins - Yuki looks around to find a letter laying on the floor, next to the head of the bed. He must’ve knocked it down from his pillow in his sleep. The envelope is signed by both Mother and Father, smelling faintly of Mother’s perfume. With another yawn, he sets it on top of the book stack and leaves the room.

The light suggests it’s late morning, but the quiet is not that of a house with people sleeping in it, but an empty one. Yuki can tell the difference, somehow. There’s no smell of a breakfast being readied, either. Some woman, one of the neighbors in the gated community they live in, and some associate of his parents, sometimes pops in to cook, but Yuki doesn’t expect her today. He recalls how she practically ran into the house, holding her phone between her cheek and shoulder, too busy yelling at someone to stop leaving things for the last minute to notice Yuki listening from on top of the stairs. She slammed a few containers on the counter, scribbled a post it with the instructions, slapped it on top, and left as quickly as she arrived. Once he got over the sudden burst of noise, Yuki sighed in relief. The woman’s voice was so grating he’d rather if she didn’t speak around him at all, and she always had so much to say. She would sometimes talk about Yuki on the phone, when she thought Yuki couldn’t hear. Just the content of the words seemed like praise, but the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes was anything but. It makes him uneasy, trying to guess what the strange auntie expects of him. He doesn’t complain about her meals, even though she only seems to know a few vegetarian recipes, doesn’t leave a mess or make noise when she’s around. What else?

Yuki pads over to his father’s studio and checks the doorknob. Locked, as he thought, but the key is right where Yuki remembers. He pushes the door with held breath, like he’s uncovering a treasure vault. As soon as he’s inside, he forgets all about such trivial things as breakfast.

No matter how many times he sneaks in there, inside of Father’s room, Yuki’s eyes light up like at a kid’s at a candy store. The music collection on display along the walls mesmerizes him more than any sweets could. He spends a long while just studying the covers - there are both records and newer CDs, from Japan and overseas alike, though Yuki struggles a bit with some of the names and titles in the Roman alphabet - before he realizes that he could just play something.

It’s cold that brings Yuki back down to earth. Belatedly, he realizes that the heating is turned off. Shivering in a thin pajama, Yuki wraps his arms around himself, but it doesn’t help for long. He considers diving back under the covers; the warm bed calls to Yuki from his room, but he bravely shakes himself awake. A thrill of excitement runs through him as he remembers that Mother’s suite has a private bathroom.

For, someone as petite as Yuki, the huge, deep bathroom in the center is like a small pool. Yuki hesitates with his hand over the tap; the clock on Father’s stereo showed only around noon. It _is_ his birthday, though. Yuki picks out a few of the jars and bottles lining the edge of the tub and hums softly as he fills the bottom with colorful sands. While the water runs, he peeks into one of the cupboards.  It’s full of unopened samples; among them a few round things Yuki knows are called bath bombs. As he watches the water turn the colors of sunset, Yuki props his chin up on a hand and lets his thoughts wander.

Mother has those wonderfully fluffy bathrobes just waiting to slip into… Snuggling up in one of those, he wouldn’t have to fear the cold in the studio. Father subscribes to fancy audio software that only works on one computer - Yuki’s train of thought is interrupted by a growl from his own stomach. Perhaps he should dig through the fridge, first. But what if he ate somewhere other than the dining room? Then, he could try opening the huge piano downstairs… There’s no one around to hear. He could even sing out loud.

Yuki pushes the lightly fizzing piece of the bath bomb around with his finger. During the Holiday rush, his father wouldn’t be able to get out of serving the customers at the cafe, and Mother was constantly on the phone, even when at home; whether it was work that was keeping her busy today, or some fancy parties with clients - it's the 24th, after all - Yuki doesn’t know, but when both of them return, they will surely pat Yuki’s head and call him a good boy who can play by himself. There’s nothing stopping Yuki from doing things like this every day, except - if he did, then today wouldn’t be special. He has a vague idea that birthdays should be.

Soaking in the wonderfully warm bath, he does feel special. There’s something fascinating about water with such deep color, smelling softly of flowers, that makes him pour it between his fingers and splash around like a little kid - he’s not _that_ little anymore. There’s a stereo in Mother’s bathroom too; as the tones of one of Father’s concerts start to flow from the speakers, a shiver of excitement runs through Yuki, and yet...  Something is missing.

 

* * *

 

A deep sigh escapes Yuki’s mouth as he looks up from an infuriatingly empty page in his notebook. Banri doesn’t seem to notice the annoyed tapping of his pen; he’s dancing in front of the single mirror in the corner of the shabby dressing room with almost maniacal focus. Yuki shakes his head, exasperated; even without the music, he easily recognizes one of their oldest songs, one even the less athletic Yuki has down pat. If not for the song choice - but this feels like making a point.

Yuki half expects Ban to turns around and announce another setlist change for the upcoming live. He’s been rearranging and tweaking it so much, sometimes sending Yuki a second update in a day through text after they already parted ways. Yuki, struggling to keep up, dared to tell him to stop, or else Yuki may mess up the steps - in response, Banri used some of their budget to rent the practice room for all remaining evenings before the date. He’s already bullied Yuki mercilessly, pointing out every minor mistake; when he announced that they have to practice the MC, as well, Yuki declared that he has a song to write, and if Ban has given up on _that_ in order to... - Yuki didn’t finish the sentence out loud only because it was Ban, but he sure did in his head - he can do whatever he wants. That seems to be antagonizing Yuki, so far.

Yuki tries to return to writing again, but the irritation wipes his mind clear. He looks up to tell Ban to squeak more quietly - his shoes are making so much noise - but that’s when some harried staff member cracks the door open to tell them to get on standby.

This live goes by without incident, though Yuki finds the shouts of the crowd and going through the motions on stage more tiresome than usual. He’s suffered through for so long because it let him keep singing his and Ban’s songs, but it may be the time to reevaluate their friendship. This time for real, not like last month, when Ban kept bothering him to change his vision - so what if the song ended up better with his suggestions, Yuki grumbles under his breath. At least back then, he had his priorities in order.

Just before Banri convinced him to become idols - Yuki thought he managed to get his feelings across. He’s tried so hard to find the words for the frustrations stewing inside him; after what Banri said about his songs, wishing for them to not get dirtied… How they’re the best… Yuki thought he understood. Wasn’t that why he agreed to follow Ban?

Yuki leaves right after they change from the stage costumes, without a word and not waiting for Ban to follow. Even so, his legs almost automatically carry him towards Ban’s house, before he catches himself and heads for his parents’ residence instead. He will miss out on the takeout they’d always get after performances, but it’s not like he can’t cook for himself now. It should taste much better than restaurant-made.

It doesn’t. For whatever garbage reason, Yuki fumes, it doesn’t.

Yuki’s chagrin reaches its peak when after all the meticulous preparations, Ban is almost late to the venue. It’s up to Yuki to talk to staff, which goes as well as expected. Yuki feels the disapproving looks concentrate on him from every corner of the backstage area when Ban finally joins him, out of breath, as if

He’s out of breath, as if he’s been running all the way here.

“I can’t believe they kept it in customs until today,” he groans, tossing Yuki a small package. Yuki catches it in both hands. It’s in a standard postage box, though the invoice has been peeled away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to wrap it up. Let’s do our best today!”

“Do our best? How, holding this? Where do you want me to put it?” For the lack of table in reach, Yuki puts the package under his arm and tugs at Ban’s collar. “You kept freaking out for no reason, and now _you’re_ a mess. What is this, anyway?”

Ban freezes, not  even trying to fight off Yuki’s clumsy attempts at fixing his costume. “Yuki. Don’t you know what day is today?”

“Saturday, so more fans can come without worrying about school or work,” Yuki recites in a boring tone, parroting Ban’s words. “But why…”

“I set reminders on your phone!”

Yuki narrows his eyebrows. “I muted some,” he recalls. “They were interrupting my songwriting.”

“Of course they were,” Ban sighs wearily.

“Should I have… gotten you something?”

Yuki’s confusion mixes with guilt. It’s not Ban’s birthday - he knows when _that_ is, he’s not that horrible - but what is it -

“So you’ve had no idea what we were preparing for… It’s just our anniversary. Debut anniversary.

“But…” Yuki begins to count in his head. “It’s not yet. An anniversary is after one year. It hasn’t been that long.”

“Our _first_ debut anniversary,” Banri explains patiently, “As a band.”

“...We’re the only ones left from that time,” Yuki points out, slow and wary.  “Most of the fans quit. Do you really think any of them remembers?”

“You can see for yourself in a bit. I thought the beginnings of our sound were important to you.”

“It’s not - “

Yuki hangs his head in shame. All this time, he assumed… His insides are burning. He still remembers the spark from hearing Ban’s song for the first time, the feeling of reassurance when that warm, comforting presence became a part of his daily life. Even if Ban’s nagging was an annoying buzz in his ears sometimes, it was still better than the deafening silence. To have someone who spoke to him, not at him. Someone who cared about his songs more than how he spoke to people - but maybe that would change, now.

Down at the core, each day with Banri was so comfortable Yuki has never thought to count. They were supposed to continue forever - but the anniversary was important to Ban. Even if he didn’t get it, it was supposed to be important to Yuki, too. Because it was Ban.

“I can about figure out what you’re thinking now,” Banri says, ruffling Yuki’s hair, a little forcefully. “Snap out of it. I’m not going to break up with you. Just give it your all on stage. Not like last time.”

Yuki nods slowly.

“Though I wouldn’t mind if  you footed the bill when we go to celebrate later.”

“... You messed up my hair.”

“So now we match. Let’s not keep the staff waiting, or we won’t be able to perform here again.”

 

“Did you see that banner? It was definitely hand-made!”

“It’s because we don’t have official merchandise. The fans, too.”

Ban flicks him on the forehead.

“Ow.”

“You should learn to notice people’s consideration and effort, at least.”

“Why? I got you for that.”

Another flick.

“Ow!”

“Notice mine, too! Honestly… Remember this,” Banri points at him with a piece of meat, before popping it into his mouth, “Handmade things are a proof of sincerity.”

“How sincerely they want to date you, you mean,” Yuki shoots back between the bites of his dish. “Or me, I guess.”

“Given your track record, should you be mentioning us in that order?”

“But out of the two of us, you’re the better one,” Yuki says plainly.

Silence falls at their table. “What? It’s obvious.”

To Yuki’s surprise, Banri blushes and sputters. “Anyway, h-how’s your food?”

“It’s nice.” Yuki glances down onto his plate, both a feast for the eyes and the stomach. ”They know how to make a proper vegetarian meal here. Not just a random salad.”

“It definitely looks fancy,” Banri notes, with a tone of appreciation in his voice. “You didn’t have to take us to such an expensive place.”

“Isn’t it fine? Because I didn’t get you a gift for the anniversary. Even those girls made the fans and banners. I can only cook what I like, so this is better.”

“Yuki. Do you want to know why anniversaries are special?”

Yuki perks up slightly, but doesn’t answer. Banri seems to notice his interest easily enough.

“It’s not just because a year has passed, or because you exchange gifts. Anniversaries have a mysterious power.”

“...Just tell me already…”

“Okay, okay. On a day like this, somehow, it’s easier to say what’s in your heart. Even if you’re shy, you can express your gratitude more freely. No one will ask why you’re suddenly saying it, because that’s what anniversaries are for.”

“Easier,” Yuki repeats thoughtfully.

“That’s right. After we’re done here, want to go to karaoke? I’ll pay, this time.”

“What, we were just singing so much!” Yuki whines. “I want to go home sleep…”

“I just feel like singing our songs until I drop, today! You can sleep any other day, come on.”

Yuki shovels a few more bites into his mouth. “You could look at the song I started. Maybe you can get it off the ground.”

“Sure!”

In the end, Yuki follows Ban to the karaoke place. He would follow him anywhere.

 

* * *

 

Yuki lies still after waking, and listens. The sound of energetic footsteps reaches him from the kitchen, followed by the sound of two plates being set down. Holding back a smile, Yuki counts down - three, two, one….

“Yuki-saaaan~!”

Just as Momo pounces on him, Yuki opens his arms and locks them around Momo’s shoulders. Momo gives a surprised squeak, but leans into the hug anyway,  kicking his legs in the air in delight.

“Happy anniversary, Yuki-san!”

“San?” Yuki tightens his grip and lowers his voice. “Momo, we talked about this. You were already calling me without honorifics before.”

Their faces are very close. From this distance, Yuki can tell apart all the shades of Momo’s blush.

“Yuki…”

“Happy debut anniversary, Momo.”

Yuki breathes in. Momo smells like morning sunshine and fresh air.

“You were outside. Running?” He peeks at the calendar on the wall, confirming that Momo doesn’t have work today

“Ah, no! I was out at the stalls! To get fresh veggies! Because, you see, Yuki-sa… Sorry! It’s because I was thinking a lot, so I reverted without noticing…”

“You were thinking about vegetables?”

“About us! About my gratitude! I wanted to do something for you, so - It’s not much, but -

Smiling comes to Yuki more naturally, but he still has to repeat Ban’s advice in his head, sometimes. _Be kind._

“Momo. Whatever it is, I’m happy.”

The smile that blooms across Momo’s face makes the effort worth it.

“I made sandwiches! It’s not really cooking, so I couldn’t mess it up, and we got a few bigger jobs one after the other lately, so for once we can afford to buy stuff fresh instead of the before-closing sale… They’re a special kind, so I think you’ll like them, but, uh - Not like this isn’t - I mean, can we get up now! Please!“ Momo’s cheeks light up dark pink again. Yuki feels the urge to run his finger over Momo’s skin, to see if it’s warmer, but he has a present to give, too. He releases Momo and pushes himself

Momo’s apologetic tone echoes Yuki’s  own worries. Photos pinned on the walls on their tiny apartment and colorful scribbles in Momo’s hand on the calendar mark the progress of their career - Momo keeps track of every smallest “anniversary”, copying them from his phone, but really, mostly from memory. With how they’re signed to a company now, and with so many memorable moments, it feels like they should be further along the path than celebrating buying at the morning market in the old shopping district; Yuki wants to be able to give Momo more. And yet… Yuki recalls asking about Momo’s habit of drawing all over the calendar. He wasn’t prepared for the radiant grin and the simple declaration that followed.

“When I turn around and see the reminders, it makes me so happy!”

Listening to Momo chatter on about how he made friends with the old man selling fruit, Yuki feels the same. Doubts about how it would be like, compared to anniversaries with Ban, concerns about money, are all blown away when he looks at the best reminder of them all - Momo smiling beside him - and all that’s left is gratitude.

“I’ve got something for you too,” Yuki says, reaching under his pillow. “It’s not much either, but I… made it for you.”

“That notebook!” Momo gasps, his eyes sparkling in admiration. “It’s a song, isn’t it! Oh, Yuki… We’ll get to sing it, right?”

“Well, there’s a song, I wasn’t able to finish it yet, but” Yuki flips through the pages hurriedly; there was supposed to be a bookmark. Hearing the uncharacteristically distracted manner Yuki refers to his own song in, Momo stares at him with mouth open in surprise. “But this!” Yuki all but shoves the notebook in front of Momo’s eyes. “What do you think?”

“Those are - rings?”

The drawing is rough, with squiggly lines visible where he colored in with black pencil, but readable. There are two matching ones.

“Are they for us?”

“You did that thing with the earrings,” Yuki mumbles, embarrassed, “and that funny little man keeps rambling something about building a brand, even though he still doesn’t pay us enough…”

“Yuki, stop!” Momo holds up a hand, with an almost comical cold sweat on his face. “You shouldn’t call our manager a funny little man in that irritated voice! How are you and Okarin still not getting along?”

“Things that cannot be helped, cannot be helped,” Yuki says through his teeth. “ _Okarin_ , huh… Anyway. Would you wear this? As a part of our costumes?”

“Always! Every day! In street clothes, too! But, Yuki,” Momo cocks his head to the side, “what is this round part? Bunny ears? Or bear? It looks so cute!”

“They’re music symbols!” Yuki taps the corner of the notebook, where they are drawn unwound. Right repeat and left repeat!”

“Wow, they’re almost the same! Just mirrored!”

“The rings would be the same, too, we’d just wear them the opposite way. Well, not like I can afford to get these made, right now.”

Momo goes oddly quiet. “So… I’ll get to stay with you until then.”

“What are you talking about, Momo? I - “ Yuki’s voice gets stuck in his throat. “I want you to wear this ring forever.”

Momo looks up slowly, looking about to cry. Suddenly, he puts on a dead serious voice.

“Do you think neechan would reply to me for once if I texted her that I got engaged?”

After knowing Momo for a few years, Yuki has started to approach some sort of understanding of Momo’s sense of humor. Trying to imitate the tone Momo just used, he clasps Momo’s shoulder and declares,

“I will be by your side, even if your family is against us.”

He doesn’t manage it as confidently, and his voice breaks a bit, but Momo still throws his arms around his neck and squeals.

“Yuki, you went along with it! You hunk! Not before breakfast, this is bad for my health!”

Both of their faces feel hot. Yuki pats Momo’s back, awkward compared to before, before Momo’s warmth melts through his defenses and he deepens the hug again. It would be hard to let go, if not for the near perfectly synchronized growl from both of their stomachs.

“Let’s eat that breakfast you made.”

 

“These are open?”

“You’ll understand when you come closer! Turning them into classic sandwiches would ruin the effect!”

When Yuki leans over the table, his mouth falls open. The bread slices, kept square, have… faces. The one set in front of Yuki has a leaf of lettuce as the skin, tiny tomatoes for eyes, a thin slice of pepper as a smiling mouth… and medium length hair made of spring onions. There’s even a lighter strand made of the base part of the leaf.

“They’re not creepy, are they?” Momo asks, concerned. “I know not everyone likes eating something with a face…”

“...Amazing…. Cute. Did you come up with these?”

“Yes - no - I mean, this design, but not the idea! You’ve never seen these before?”

Yuki shakes his head. His mornings were never as bright as they are now.

“I’m so glad! I could show you something new! Okay, let’s dig in!”

“Momo.”

“Hm?”

“Tell me where your sister lives,” Yuki hears himself say. “She used to be a fan of Ban and me, right? I’ll talk to her. I’ll explain everything and apologize.”

“Wait - I can’t ask you that!”

“It’s my responsibility, too,” Yuki insists, fighting against the panic rising in his chest. Yuki has never been good at apologizing, but it’s the right thing to do; Ban would surely say so, as well. “It doesn’t feel right that she won’t talk to you, when you’re working so hard. We’re partners. I don’t know when we’ll be able to take a day off again… But I’ll go.”

Momo hastily wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Thank you, Yuki.”

The sandwiches are the most delicious thing Yuki ever tasted. Yuki doesn’t try to resist at all when Momo drags him outside for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

After the broadcast for the 3rd anniversary NEXT Re:vale special wraps up, Yuki collapses onto the couch in their dressing room, holding onto his stomach. He’s weak in the knees, his face hurts from laughing, and if he looks at Momo’s face now, he may just…

“Daaarling!”

Momo launches himself onto the couch and nearly bounces off. “That was a~ma~zing!”

The moment their eyes meet, both of them explode into giggles, holding onto each other to not fall off. When he manages to catch a breath, Momo wipes at the corner of Yuki’s eye.

“Aww, Yuki! Tears came out!”

“Momo - were you - you really weren’t in on this?”

“I swear!” Momo lays his head on Yuki’s shoulder and looks up at him in a way that would make Yuki believe that the sky is green and grass is blue. “I just went with the flow!”

“Just? How many people do you think could _just_ do that? Momo, you’re amazing,” Yuki reaches out to gently remove a piece of confetti that somehow ended up in Momo’s hair, “You’re a genius. My honey is the best MC in the world.”

“Yuki… It’s not really like that, you know… Remember how stiff I used to be?”

“Then you’re a genius of hard work. That’s even more amazing, if you ask me.”

Momo blushes lightly and puffs up his cheeks. He pokes at Yuki’s chest and mutters,

“Wasshoi….”

“Wait, Momo…”

Momo raises his voice. “Love, yeah, love, yeah… !”

Yuki’s shoulders start to shake with laughter. “Momo, I swear - “

“LOVEY DOVEY NICE COUPLE!”

It’s too much to take. Momo doesn’t last long before joining Yuki. Soon, they’re both wheezing; just as Yuki starts winding down, Momo tries to go for a peck on Yuki’s cheek, but misses and lands on his jaw. Unperturbed, he chants, “Super Darling Go Go!” right into Yuki’s ear, prompting another howl of laughter.

“Momooo! I’ll - seriously - I’ll throw you ooff!”

“No, you won’t!” Momo grins cheerfully. He climbs up onto Yuki’s lap, using his strength of an athlete to hold on, and watches the amusement on his face with the softest look in his eyes.

“I really love hearing you laugh, Yuki.”

Once there’s no risk of getting headbutted, Momo puts their foreheads together. Yuki wraps his arms around Momo’s waist and sighs happily. At the back of his mind, a small anxious voice remains, reminding him of how badly he did at the quizzes today, but Momo’s proximity makes it easy to drown it out. He will do better, from now on.

“Momo, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to read your mind.”

“Hmm? So, what am I thinking about?”

“Let’s see…” Momo hums thoughtfully. “How happy you are to have such wonderful juniors to celebrate with us?”

“That's right. Well, close.”

“Oh?”

Yuki takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the embarrassment.

“They’re great kids, and I had so much fun thanks to them, today…  but I’m the happiest… to be with you.”

Ban was right. It really was easier to say.


End file.
